


may the frame age but the spark never waver,

by furyspook



Series: there is time to have it all [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mech Preg, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 09:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12603992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furyspook/pseuds/furyspook
Summary: .. . midterms just ended + i needed to write something embarrassing and goopy





	may the frame age but the spark never waver,

      It wasn’t planned  _per se_ , but there was no pretending they hadn’t wanted it. Like Tailgate hadn’t  _explicitly_  demanded he be the one to do it first, and like Cyclonus hadn’t steadfastly agreed. They spent hours talking, thinking, assuring, and  _re_ assuring with each-other before it finally happened, and for his part Tailgate couldn’t have been happier. He had no mouth to smile with, but regardless his optics radiated glee and the expression was clearly felt. He kept one hand pressed close over his spark chamber while First Aid attempted to run down a list of things he could hope to expect in the near future. After a while the medic cut himself off as if he’d expected to from the beginning, knowing that one-track Tailgate had other things occupying his processor at the moment. He extended a datapad which the minibot gratefully took, if distractedly, and said that if ever they had questions they were welcome-- encouraged --to visit him in the medbay. Tailgate held it in his free hand when he left, dizzy with joy and hardly paying attention while he walked himself to his habsuite. 

      He punched in the door code on autopilot and drifted into the suite he shared with Cyclonus, feeling light as air and warm as anything. The bot in question had his gaze trained solemnly on the window, though his optics cycled towards the door when Tailgate entered. He said nothing, not wanting to make any assumptions, not wanting to get his hopes up. When Tailgate deposited the datapad on his recharge slab the jet finally turned fully towards the room proper, his arms coming down to rest at his sides. When Tailgate glanced up to meet his optics they were expectant and the smaller couldn’t help bouncing on his feet. 

      He couldn’t have spent another moment keeping the news to himself. Tailgate rounded the slab and closed the distance between he and Cyclonus, head up and visor burning. “ _We did it!_ ” And it was a harsh, excited whisper. Cyclonus said nothing for several moments and Tailgate refused to allow a dramatic silence, continuing, “We did it! I talked to First Aid, and he scanned me, and he told me all about it! And I forgot about it almost as soon as I heard it because I was so excited, but he gave me this datapad with all of this information on it and...” 

      Cyclonus still hadn’t said a word, and it was difficult to gauge a reaction from a face that was so trained to stoicism. Tailgate’s feet shuffled, anxiety starting to bleed into the happy bubble he’d wrapped himself in. “Cyclonus, you’re looking at me funny.”

      In the next instant Cyclonus’ face had gone from unreadable to a map of waterworks, tears spilling over his faceplate from his optics and starts and stops poured from his vocalizer. Tailgate’s nerves abated instantly, recognizing the same fondness he always felt in the way the red optics flared down at him. His stoic Cyclonus, weeping tears of joy. Tailgate extended both arms and Cyclonus was quick to fall into them, seemingly unbothered by the way his shins struck the floor while the minibot’s arms wrapped ‘round his head and neck. Tailgate felt his own frame enveloped by much larger arms, and he nuzzled close against Cyclonus’ crown. He hadn’t been crying before, but Tailgate was certainly overwhelmed now. 

      Cyclonus didn’t withdraw to speak. “I can’t believe it,” Tailgate kept his faceplate very close to the top of Cyclonus’ head, just up against it, and he hummed a happy chord. He couldn’t help bouncing on his feet again but the movement barely disturbed the larger bot. “That we could do this seemed so... distant, like some impossible hope,” 

      Their concerns had been, for the most part, related to their age. Tailgate could still recall clearly the feeling of cybercrosis tracking through his lines, and his aging frame had only been partially reconstructed when he came aboard the  _Lost Light_. Cyclonus... wasn’t sure where he stood, having been resurrected, but the pair had assumed their chances were slim even if they made all of the decisions and were prepared to make all of the arrangements. When he’d gone to the medbay First Aid hadn’t seemed surprised at all. 

      Maybe they worried too much. “Sometimes that even pays off!”

      Cyclonus chuckled, the action shaking his frame. Tailgate felt Cyclonus’ nose brush over his chestplate and his optics grew impossibly brighter. If they were a little moist? Hey, he was living an impossible dream. 

      They stayed like that for a while, Cyclonus on his knees cradling his minibot and being cradled in return, listening to Tailgate whisper with all of the adoration he could muster. Eventually, though, Cyclonus collected himself and leaned back to get a good look at his partner, and Tailgate had to stifle a laugh at the way tears threatened to fall a second time. 

      Into his smaller hands Tailgate clasped both of Cyclonus’, “I think we’re ready.” 

      Cyclonus nodded wordlessly.

      “I mean, we’d better be ready.” And Cyclonus nodded again, stifling a laugh of his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> ... i kinda wanna write a reverse one cause that interaction would be p different ... + this ship Sustains Me... + so does Big Ol Sap Cyclonus cause u cant tell me hes not i wont believe you 
> 
> i dunno how i feel about the idea of like. mech preg /sparklings in relation to transformers canon but im a big ol sucker for parent fic so im unstoppable


End file.
